And Miss Phryne Fisher Lived Here: Nuts, Bolts, Sex, And Moolah

Sorry, but I just couldn’t pass this one up:

apparently, Melbourne,

that’s in Australian,

is right in the middle of their yearly so-called sex-po,

a trade fair for the erotic trades,

this year featuring:

get ready,

this is really good-

ta da-

pole-dancing robots.

yes, you heard me right-

pole dancing robots.

And the gigabit question in the article was:

where do you put the  money-

come on, guys.

Everyone knows robots dream of electric sheep,

and

only take plastic money-

swiped fast across their small tv screen abdomen,

especially with regard to the new plastic five-pound note,

now coming,

all shiny and new

and plastic,

off the….

wait.

But maybe not.

For it seems that:

the new plastic money apparently

contains a small amount of animal fat-

that white disgusting stuff normally used to make

non-vegetarian lardy cakes,

and mincemeat pies

for Christmas.

Or white pudding-

oats, fat, and pepper, in an intestine,

for breakfast.

Which, I assume won’t be served

at the sex-po in Melbourne,

because the vegetarians won’t allow it,

and because,

I assume,

the robot strippers on the pole,

would slide off,

if their palms

oops,

six-packs,

were greased with non-vegetarian five-pound notes,

since,

apparently,

the pole dancers,

who,

with only minor modification,

can man the desk of major hotels,

serve cocktails,

mind children

while pole dancing?-

only run on platinum,

peroxide,

and high-grade diesel oil,

and could be seriously damaged

by the cruder stuff

of their trade.

Like fat English five-pound bills

being swiped across them,

or hands greasy from eating mince pies

and white pudding.

So my question, then,

of course,

being a red-blooded human type curious writer,

is:

why do wives get smeared with grease

by amorous hubbies

eating white sausage,

hot dogs,

you get the picture,

and

why do wives

never see enough of the plastic money

to get smeared with the grease?

This is blatantly unfair.

And de-humanizing.

I mean, really,

what does a wife have to do to get a little respect?

Not to mention plastic money?

Put on a Borg suit

and pole dance?

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